Day by Day (and for all the days to come)
by Haleybug2015
Summary: In times like these, when the security of daily life is no longer guaranteed, humanity is the only thing separating man from monster. None can afford to brave the horde alone. A retelling of the events in L4D2, with the addition of a few OCs (because the more the merrier, or at least more likely to survive).
Breathe. Just breathe. Twisting the cheap metal band on her left hand, the lone inhabitant of the once-pleasant hotel checked the strength of the barrier she'd made of broken furniture and whatever nails she could scavenge. Sturdy enough, she decided, if she was quiet and lucky. Not that she'd been very much of either lately. At least she wasn't dead, or running around with a swollen brain like the rest of those poor bastards out there. _Count your blessings, girl._ She still couldn't get over the fact that this outbreak had happened so quickly. No one she knew had seemed to take the 'end of the world' frenzy seriously. One thing was for sure, if she'd been given a glimpse of the future, she wouldn't have majored in botany.

With a short breath, she sat on the floor, giving her meager supplies a once-over. One bag of chips, one of peanuts, three bottles of water, a change of underwear, her weapons; a machete that she'd found buried in the skull of one of her neighbors a few weeks ago, a couple of handguns, and her father's sniper rifle. And then she had her first aid kit, arguably the most important part of her ensemble. She had to admit, she had felt guilty in taking so many supplies from the lab before they had to evacuate, but she was able to push it to the back of her mind, as she did with so much else. It didn't matter now, after all, the zombies didn't care if you were cold.

All these were stashed with room to spare, in a duffel bag that used to be pink before she realized that the infected were drawn to the color more than she'd ever been. Now it was a depressing shade of mold-brown, but it didn't stand out, and that's what mattered. She sighed again, despite her motivation to stay quiet and hidden. In all this chaos, she hadn't had much downtime to truly come to terms with this situation. This completely, utterly, truly fucked up situation. Grimacing, she picked the dirt from under her fingernails with the tip of the machete. _I wonder how far it's spread. Is it just America, or is the whole world infected? Could I be the only one left? How long will I last out here alone?_

She dropped the machete, her hands trembling too hard to keep her grip, and she didn't care about the sound. In this ruined hotel room, dirty and tired, wearing another woman's clothes, she put her head in her hands and cried until her head pounded from dehydration. Unscrewing the cap of a water bottle with a grimace, she drank a third of it and then stashed it back in her duffel bag, although it wasn't nearly enough to quench her rapidly worsening thirst. _Should have known better than to waste clean water on bellyaching. Crying won't help you survive._

"… had to drop us off in the…a fucking metropolis."

The woman perked up her head, ears catching faint traces of what sounded like conversation. Getting to her feet shakily, she walked toward the window, squinting out at the four figures that seemed to have some sense of hand-eye coordination. Her heart did a little flip as she fumbled for her sniper, setting it up on the balcony and peering excitedly through the scope. Yes, she determined with a sudden surge of adrenaline, they were human, and well-armed to boot. Three men, one woman. She almost called out to them, but caught herself in time. A good first impression would be out the window if she brought the horde down on them before she even introduced herself. Besides, just because they were human doesn't mean they weren't a possible danger.

"…headed to the…center at the mall…"

"Gotta agree."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. Were they hoping the EVAC center there was still intact? If so, they were in for an unpleasant surprise. As of this moment, all the centers in Georgia and Alabama were empty, the only one left standing on this side of the country was all the way in New Orleans. She set her mouth in a grim line and shook her head, looking through the scope again, when she saw the telltale shambling mass of an incoming wave of infected. Her frown slowly turned into a wide grin that looked more like a snarl, and she lined up her sights with the swollen head of one of the zombies.

Just breathe.

And… release.

One more rotting bastard out of commission.

Another breath.

Pull the trigger.

Right between the eyes.

It was a new sort of difficult to get a bead on the shambling freaks, and at the same time not shoot the survivors, but eventually the four stood alone surrounded by unmoving corpses. They milled around for a moment, checking for injuries and the state of their supplies, but they did not seem to notice her yet. She snorted. In the chaos, she could imagine they wouldn't notice if a killing shot came from too far away. Eventually they began moving again, and she was just about to throw an empty bottle to get their attention when they froze.

She frowned, taking her eye away from the scope to survey the streets. Nothing. She looked back through the scope, training it on each of their faces to get an idea of what they were looking at. Various states of fear, wariness, and anxiety. The one who still had his flashlight on hastily switched it off, and they all started moving away slowly to the side. And that's when she saw it. A shaggy head held in hands that had long since turned into claws, thin frame racked with sobs as bare feet dragged it through the streets. She pursed her lips. Witch. Again she lowered the scope, waiting to see what their reactions would be. She didn't want to take a shot and end up missing if they could sneak past her.

Unfortunately, as if the witch could hear her thoughts, it started wandering closer to the group, who was attempting to move as quickly away from it as they could while remaining silent. It was not until they stopped moving that she realized they had come up against a wall formed by three cars and the railing at the side of the highway. Narrowing her eyes, she snapped up the rifle decisively and focused on the witch, who was ambling slowly towards boxing them in completely. The witch stopped, and so did the woman, finger tightening imperceptibly on the trigger.

Clawed hands dropped slowly from the face they had been cradling.

Breathe in.

The breeze picked up an errant lock of hair from the creature's face, that same untimely gust sending it the scent of the four desperate humans crouched behind a van.

Hold.

A lipless mouth curved into a snarl.

Hold…

The creature's back arched, and shining teeth were bared to the sky as it opened its mouth to shriek.

Pull.

The witch's howl –and head- was cut short by the bullet's impact, and the rest of its body crumpled to the ground in a spreading pool of blood. The woman smirked, letting out the breath she'd been holding in a pleased sigh as the four turned their heads in unison to the window. She waved the rifle in greetings, and though they were too far away to see their expressions, they all waved back heartily, and she felt a small glimmer of something she hadn't felt since day one of this mess.

Hope.


End file.
